


from the very simple

by toomanyhometowns



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Board Games, Don't copy to another site, Gen, fascinated by the AU - Normal High School tag that was suggested
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:02:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26449738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanyhometowns/pseuds/toomanyhometowns
Summary: thought-42 asked:[Queer bar/bookstore/advocacy group/coffee shop/setting of your choice AU], York and Carolina[in which board games are a matter of life and death, and York is desperately hoping it won't be death tonight]
Collections: tumblrfic exodus





	from the very simple

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thought](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thought/gifts).



> Moving ancient fic off tumblr and onto AO3! Title is from the Wikipedia [article on board games](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Board_game).
> 
> CW: slight allusion to background homophobia.

“Why did you have to come tonight, of all nights,” North says mournfully.

York’s smile freezes in place. “Because you invited me?” And then it had taken me three weeks to get up the balls to go, because I didn’t want anyone to _know_ , he doesn’t say. He’s got designs on student council president before senior year, he needs to be careful, careful.

“No, I’m sorry.” North rakes his hands through his hair and fixes York with an uncomfortably heartfelt stare. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s just that… well, it’s board game night.”

North waits for York to understand, and York waits for North to make sense.

“…Okay?” York ventures.

North stares at him appraisingly, so York straightens his back and tries to seem as confident and board game-ready as ever a sophomore has been.

“Just don’t judge the folks by what you see in there today,” North eventually says. “We’re normally a lot more… uh. Well, a lot less bloodthirsty, at least.”

And with that, York is being ushered into his first Community High School Queer Straight Alliance Board Game Night.

They start with Taboo. Well, they start with introductions, and York says his name, what his favourite Star Trek series is, and his pronouns. His voice doesn’t shake at all, and he starts to relax.

That doesn’t last long.

South, who he’d previously known just as that intermural dodgeball chick who was terrible at following dress code, snaps out, “Bathtub full of ice, missing—”

“KIDNEYS,” North and the freshman (Wash?) both holler in unison.

South flicks the card down with a violent snap of her wrist, eyes already on the next one. “Yo ho ho and a bottle—”

“Rum,” says North.

“Ocean,” says Wash.

“No, fucking think for two seconds,” South hisses. “Peg-leg, eyepatch.”

“Pirate!” North shouts, slamming his hand on the table. The timer, which York is supposed to be watching, rattles.

“New guy! The _time_ ,” Carolina says. York is on her team, and he is terrified of her.

"Uh, yeah!” York says. “Time’s… up?”

“Eight in one round, bitches!” South holds her hands out for simultaneous high fives from her two teammates, and then slides over the pack of cards to York.

The top card is battered and torn, the whole deck clearly well-loved (for lack of a better term).

York gulps. 

“You’re up.” Carolina doesn’t sound encouraging so much as she sounds grim. “Remember, speed is key. If can’t think of anything for a word, just pass and move on to the next one.”

“Right,” York says. “Okay.”

“Ready-go,” says North, flipping over the timer, and York can’t believe he ever thought this guy was nice.

—

“Sweet, sugar, candy,” Carolina rattles off, looking intently at York’s face as if she can laser the answers right out of it. There are rumours she has a pill habit. York would believe them, right now, but he’d also never, _ever_ tell her that. Or think it. Or, fuck.

“No, no, like uh… Medicine? Or chocolate?” he says. “Black chocolate.”

“Gritty,” says Carolina, and York is going to break down, he’s actually going to cry.

“Bitter,” Tex says. York is, if anything, more scared of her than he is of Carolina. They say she steals stuff from Walmart. They also say she steals _cars_.

But right at this second, he could kiss her. “Yesyesyes,” he says, and breathes for the first time in thirty seconds.

The next card is “coat.” York isn’t allowed to say “outside, weather, rain, cold, or jacket.”

All other words immediately flee his mind.

—

Taboo ends. Finally.

Team Kickass Rainbow Warriors beats Team Goddammit York with a score of 69-30, and York can’t even bring himself to care.

“Best two games out of three,” Carolina says, voice layered with iron control. She pulls a box out from under her chair. It features bright-coloured lettering that screams “someone in the nineties thought this would make the game look fun!” and it is, blessedly, not a team game.

York turns out to be better at Twister than at least Wash, Tex, South, and North. The jury’s out on Carolina, because after ten minutes of both of them twisting and slipping and performing improbable feats of balance, the rest of the QSA declares it a tie.

“I’m impressed,” says South. She spins the spinner around one last time, hard enough that it makes a whirring noise. “But also bored.”

York grins up at her through Carolina’s ponytail. “So it’s a win for Team Goddammit York?”

Carolina twitches her hair out of the way and rolls off of York’s back, leaving him cold. She extends a hand to help him up, a predatory spark glinting in her eye. “Yeah, nice way to think of it.” 

—

Carolina’s their host tonight, because her dad’s away at a conference and she had the house anyways. “We rotate who’s hosting,” North explained a few weeks ago, when York finally pushed himself to talk to North. “But if someone can’t do it, there’s no pressure. Me and South can usually swing it, and Wyoming lets us crash his place if we need to. There’s always Carolina’s, too.”

Looking around, York can see a single bowl in the dish draining rack, with a single spoon. The mail on the counter is lined up perfectly parallel to the edge, and the TV remote is resting neatly on top of the little pile of envelopes.

“Longest road, suckers,” Tex says. “C’mon, lay it on me.” Carolina reluctantly surrenders the card and Tex cackles.

“Don’t get too attached,” Carolina warns.

—

York isn’t sure how long they’ve been playing Catan for, but it feels like if he opened the door there’d be hexagons as far as the eye can see.

“Motherfucker, you fucking _say something_ when you roll a three.” South glares at North like he’d poisoned her. “You know I need the wheat.”

"Yeah, well, I needed not to have the robber on my clay.” North shrugs.

South rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, that was like thirty turns ago. Let it go.”

“I’m letting it go,” North says. “Just like you let go of that wheat for not watching my roll.”

“Oh, it’s on.” South cracks her knuckles, and York’s actually concerned that they’re going to come to blows.

Carolina rolls, the die rattling authoritatively on the table. “Knock it off,” she says, then she adds, “Five,” as an afterthought.

“Sheep!” shouts Tex, then does the Sheep Dance.

York collects his wood and piles it into a neat little stack. Next turn, he’s building a third fricking town, and nobody can stop him.

“Does anyone have some clay?” Wash looks imploringly at them each in turn. “Tex, you got some last turn, right?”

Tex looks at Wash, then back to the board.

“I’ve got some,” offers Carolina, and Wash perks up. “So tell me, how attached are you to your library?”

Wash digs his heels in, and York watches, amazed, as Carolina barters him up from her original offer.

—

“Eight, nine, and largest army makes _ten_ victory points,” York says, half victorious, half vindictive. He throws down his his remaining resource cards and exhales hard. “Hah.”

His heart is pounding, his palms are sweaty, and he thinks he can still hear the echoes of Carolina reading North the riot act about counting to seven. But he _won_.

"Team Goddammit York gets the win, I guess,” Tex says. She’s already packing up the game board with practiced ease.

“Hey, let me enjoy my victory for a second,” York says. “Revel in it.” He grins, and the table collectively sighs with disgust. The twins are smiling, though, and he thinks Tex’s eyes look less threatening than usual.

“Good game,” Carolina allows. She pushes her chair back, glances around the table. “So, should we call it a night?”

“What time is it even?” Wash asks. He’s packing villages and cities into a tiny plastic bag. Without the game to focus on, York thinks he looks nervous. “Did we run over?”

Tex glances at her watch and winces. “Yeah, we’re a half hour late.”

Wash drops the bag. “Shoot,” he says, then bites his lip. “North?”

“I’ll give you a ride, don’t worry.” North’s already standing and checking his pockets for his keys.

Which is sweet and all, but York was kind of counting on him for a ride back, and between North, South, and Wash, he’s pretty sure all their seat belts are accounted for. “Uh…” he says.

North glances at him. “I can come back for you,” he says. “Or… Tex?”

She shakes her head. “Brought my bike,” she says.

“Death trap,” Carolina mutters, but it’s with a worn, familiar tone that seems to mean she doesn’t want to start shit. “I can drive you home.”

“I don’t want to make you go out of your way,” he says.

“Don’t worry about it, champ,” she says. “Just give me a hand with clean-up, tell me how to get there, and we’ll head out.”

—

Carolina’s car is way, way too nice for a high school student. York gets in, careful not to open the door too wide or wonder if she’s actually dealing uppers.

“So board games, huh?” His voice breaks on _games_ , and York’s having a heck of a night.

“We’re not always like that.” Carolina checks her mirrors and shoots York a look. He’s not sure what it’s supposed to mean.

“Yeah, North said the same thing,” he says. 

“You didn’t do too bad, though, for a first-timer.”

“Beginner’s luck?” York smirks, then yelps in short order. “Car, car!”

Carolina adjusts course, completely unconcerned that she nearly took the mirrors off a perfectly innocent sedan on the corner. “You shouldn’t short-change yourself,” she says, and it takes York a second to back-track in the conversation.

He shakes his head. “I am pretty lucky, though. No short-changing involved.”

“Huh,” Carolina says. “I’ll beat you next time, though.”

“You’re assuming there’ll be a next time.”

“We’re at the twins’ place next week,” Carolina says. “South’s making cookies, and I promise we’ll actually talk about stuff.” She speeds nonchalantly through an orange light. “If you want to, anyway.”

York holds still and watches the streetlights flash by. “Sounds like a plan.”


End file.
